


of monsters and men

by hashtag_eternal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Crow Daichi, Crow Suga, Fluff, Kitsune Akaashi, M/M, More tags to be added bc. i have no fuckin idea what i'm doing reeeeee, Owl Konoha, Slow Burn, Winged Wolf Bokuto, yeet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 23:30:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hashtag_eternal/pseuds/hashtag_eternal
Summary: legend says, that when a kitsune suffers a great loss of a loved one, or experiences heart-wrenching betrayal, their fur undergoes a permanent process, one that turns their fur a pure, obsidian black.a sign of a mourning and bitter soul, a sign of remorse and loneliness.welcome to a land where animals, men and beasts roam,a place which very few call homea story of two mythical beingsa chase from one, the other yet not fleeing.one who's afraid to trust again,he feels he's got more to lose than he has to gainanother who's cheerful, freefalling.he thinks that he's the one who's stallingno one knows who fell first,but here's their story, with all the best and the worst.





	of monsters and men

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> hello, nighthaze here. i haven't written anything about my babies ~~and probably one of my top three otps~~ for a while, so here's some BokuAka, with a side of DaiSuga ;D
> 
>  
> 
> I know full and well that this most likely won't get as many views as it would if they were humans, but eh.  
> 

__

_~fluttering wings on the breeze,_  
feathered tips skimming the trees,  
eyes alight with joy and glee  
up in the sky, he’s the happiest as can be~ 

There was a slight chill in the air, a cool breeze that ruffled the winged wolf’s pelt as his paws brushed the grass. He shivered, wings fluttering to shake off the cold droplets that accumulated from his flight, mottled grey and white wings drawing closer to his body. His ears flicked, twitching almost irritably as two crows perched along his spine, talons scraping at the flesh near his spine. The wolf tilted his head back, rolling his neck before lowering his head to sniff at the ground. The sky was dark, clouds angry and foreboding, and the wolf was sure he’d heard the rumble of thunder when flying.

There was going to be a storm later on, and it was going to be nasty.

Bokuto shook his pelt, droplets of water flicking and spraying everywhere from his feathered wings and thick pelt, the two crows on his back cawing with a mixture of annoyance and surprise as they were dislodged from their perch. Bokuto shook both his forelegs free from the cold water, and trotted forward, ears pricked. The two crows’ wings fluttered, darting in front of him and weaving throughout the trees in search of shelter.

The winged wolf followed, his wings that resembled a horned owl’s markings held close to his sides, before he allowed them to disappear from sight. Although he preferred to fly, Bokuto wanted to have his paws on the ground in this soon-to-be stormy weather. Pushing his way through more brush, Bokuto found his way to a small clearing, where the two crows were circling over head, before swooping down, landing on a rock beneath a jutted cliff ledge.

“It’s free,” the smaller crow chirps, his wings fluttering, the occasional grey feather prominent in the hazy lighting.

“Thanks, Suga, Daichi.” Bokuto murmured, before dipping his head to sniff at the ground. The smallest crow, obsidian black with prominent feathers in his wings, landed lightly on Bokuto’s back, and was soon joined by the second crow. The space beneath the ledge wasn’t too large, but it was big enough and deep enough to keep the winged wolf hidden from view and sheltered from the rain. Bokuto turned around in a few circles, his wings, though hidden, keeping him warmer. There was a soft howling in the wind outside, and the storm hit. Rain quickly soaked into the ground, sending a chill into the air. 

Bokuto hunkered down on the ground, head on his paws as he stared out from his little alcove. The trees swayed in the wind, and he could see flashes and glimpses of other animals in the distance as they ran from shelter. Something else caught his eye, and to his left, a couple hundred steps away, was a large building - no, a shrine. 

They were deep in the forest. Was it usual for a shrine to he there? It didn't look too old either as it stood strong against the storm. Bokuto's ears flopped, and he yawned, stretching out his body, keeping his invisible wings tucked close to his side. Sugar and Daichi had decided to rest against Bokuto's flank, nuzzling into the down fur as Daichi wrapped a wing around Suga.

Bokuto smiled softly, before his own eyes fluttered shut, the sound of the rain and wind fading to nothing.

_~seeking shelter from the oncoming storm_  
huddling together, in attempts to be warm  
fighting together to fight other’s scorn  
always together, hearts never torn~ 

Something was there.

Bokuto woke, shifting ever so slightly, exhausted. Suga and Daichi shift as well, and Bokuto feels the fluttering OC their wings against his side. The sound of falling rain and faint rolling thunder filled his ears. But, there was something else.

Pawsteps. 

Bokuto's suddenly wide awake, breath catching in his throat as he goes stock still, doing his best to hide in the shadows. Combined with his exhaustion and the fact he hadn't eaten in days, he was weak. He peered outside in the pouring rain, and what he saw shocked him. 

It was a kitsune. 

But unlike the others Bokuto had caught glimpses of, or heard of in other stories, this one had fur of a pure black. It was as beautiful as it was intimidating. The kitsune's nine tails were spread out behind it as it trotted forward with elegant and practiced movements. The kitsune paused, ears swiveling and tails lifting slightly, before it sniffed the air.

“Come out.” The kitsune’s voice was smooth, holding a threatening tone to it. The winged wolf’s breath caught, every fibre of his being screaming at him to stay still. Before he could do anything to reveal himself, the bushes on the other side of the clearing rustled and Bokuto froze.

Two jade white foxes pushed their way through the brush, both holding scrolls in their jaws. They placed the scrolls on the ground, before rearing onto their hind legs, to touch noses with the kitsune. They dropped back down to four paws, and nudged the scrolls forward at the same time as their bodies dipped in a respectful sort of bow. At a gruff noise from the black kitsune, the white foxes straightened, and darted back into the brush.

Before Bokuto could even think about sighing in relief, the kitsune spoke again, barely heard above he falling rain, “you too. I know you’re hiding.” The winged wolf froze, before he made sure his wings were hidden and sheepishly crept from his hiding place, almost flinching as the cold rain soaked into his fur. The kitsune cast him a glance, his tails curling in close to his body as he regarded Bokuto with a calm, yet assessing gaze.

“Winged wolf, human-crows, what brings you to my forest?” The kitsune asked. Bokuto could barely keep his eyes from widening, and Suga and Daichi instinctively huddled closer together. “I’m a god. Don’t underestimate our intuition. I can smell the power, and I can sense it radiating off of you.” The kitsune continued. “Keep it up and you’ll draw powerful creatures of darkness to you. This forest in particular is full of them.”

The kitsune had a necklace around his neck, a thin black cord that held two red tailed hawk feathers and two raven feathers. A soft glowing came from the kitsune’s forehead, and Bokuto figured that it was the kitsune’s _star ball_ , the marble that held all of the kitsune’s powers. Strangely, the kitsune didn’t appear to be wet, and the scrolls at his paws seemed to be in perfect shape, parchment dry.

“Who are you?” The kitsune asked, ears and tail tips flicking.

“I’m Bokuto, Bokuto Koutaro. I travel from place to place. These are my friends, Daichi and Suga.” Bokuto responded. Both of the crows hop off of Bokuto’s back, their wings fluttering before they dip their heads respectfully to the kitsune. Bokuto fought back a yawn, ear tips twitching beneath the kitsune’s scrutiny, before letting his wings materialize back into sight. “Who.... might you be?” Bokuto asked, tilting his head. Suga pecked at his paw, and the winged wolf jumped. “Hey!”

“Be more respectful.” Suga chirped, eyes serious. The kitsune’s gunmetal blue eyes seem to watch their every movement, before he speaks.

“I’m Akaashi.” The kitsune responded, before rising delicately onto all four paws, nine tails half curled, nearly brushing the ground. “What brings you to my forest?” The kitsune repeats his original question, and Bokuto shifts on his paws, wings drawing closer to his body involuntarily.

“We were looking for a resting place from the storm.” Bokuto said, teeth beginning to chatter. The kitsune hummed, lithe muzzle lowering to touch against Bokuto’s forehead, then to Suga and Daichi’s, and the three were suddenly enveloped in warmth despite their soaked feathers and fur

“That place isn’t the best place to rest.” Akaashi’s ears twitched, before his gunmetal blue gaze settled on them. “Come rest in my shrine.” Without saying anything else, the kitsune lowered his head, and picked up both of the scrolls in his jaws easily, before moving towards the shrine. Bokuto watched for a few moments, the kitsune’s movements sleek, practiced and elegant. Suga and Daichi cawed at him, wings fluttering as they flew after the rapidly moving kitsune. 

Bokuto hurried after them.

_~wing tips that skim the grass,_  
paws pressing into wet, icky mud  
a soft promise of shelter,  
a solace from the storm.~ 

_What had he been thinking?_ Inviting strangers that he’d just met into his sacred resting place. Akaashi sat near the temple offering place, tails curled neatly over all four paws, marble glowing softly on his forehead. It was easy to hide himself if humans happened to stumble across his shrine. All he had to do was change his form, whether it was one of his other canine forms, or his spiritual form. Humans didn’t travel here often: Akaashi’s shrine was too deep within the forest.

The kitsune’s ears twitched, followed by his tail tips, one by one as he watched the winged wolf sleeping in a corner opposite of the room, his crow companions nestled near his head. Akaashi settled down, head resting on delicate paws, and huffed out a soft breath. The scrolls had been put away, and Akaashi could sleep. He preferred it if he could sleep for a few days, but he knew that with this winged wolf around, it probably wouldn’t happen, lest the winged wolf leave himself the next morning.

The winged wolf was… strange. The markings of his pelt, the way the fur on his head seemed to naturally part into two feathered tufts. His wings were broad, a sooty, pale grey, and his base pelt had been a cloudy white. It wasn’t just the tufts of fur on his head, but it was the markings on the wolf’s pelt and wings as well: they had an uncanny resemblance to a horned owl. Akaashi wondered if it was natural, and slowly closed his eyes to sleep.

_~shattered dreams and memories,_  
all broken like a smashed glass.  
the cracks aren’t just on the surface,  
they’re scars in the mind and heart, and most certainly do they last~ 

The next morning when Bokuto awoke, he spotted Akaashi across the room, still sleeping, all nine tails lax, ears at half mast. An occasional breeze swept through the shrine’s open doors, ruffling Bokuto’s fur, as well as the kitsune’s. Bokuto left Daichi and Suga to continue sleeping, and got to his paws, shaking his fur from the stiff peaks it had set in after the rain had dried. His paws still ached, and his wings were tired from weeks of flying.

Bokuto padded towards the shrine doors, intent on hunting, before glancing over his shoulder, wondering if it was safe to leave his two friends with a strange mythical creature. Bokuto’s ears twitched. _He’d be back soon._

Hopping down from the small staircase, Bokuto bounded into the forest, before pausing, sniffing the air and keeping his body still. There were the faint tracks of a deer, signaling that one had passed by not long ago. Bokuto followed it, keeping his paw steps careful, all senses alert. There was the rustling of a bush, and the winged wolf froze, holding his breath. One of the white foxes he’d seen the night before slid into view, staring at Bokuto with cerulean blue eyes. It cocked it’s head to the side, before darting across the path, tail flashing once before it disappeared from view.

Bokuto continued on, letting last night’s weariness wash away as the cool summer breeze ruffled his fur. Bokuto’s jaws gaped in a yawn, and he found himself on the edge of a clearing, looking down on four deer: two does, a fawn and a stag. Bokuto’s golden eyes narrowed, paws gathering beneath him as he circled the deer from above, making sure he was downwind before taking to the sky. 

It was easier to try to pick off the fawn, but the mother and father would be a problem. Bokuto hummed, watching the four deer lift their heads to watch Bokuto, and soft, tinny whines came from them. Bokuto dropped a few feet in the air, and swiped a paw tauntingly at the stag’s back, who reared and swung its antlers at Bokuto, who dodged. 

The winged wolf landed, and sprung forward, a growl escaping his throat, wings flaring just in time to avoid being hit by the stag’s antlers. The tactic worked: the does had started to flee, hurriedly ushering the doe in between them. Bokuto had only a few seconds to think. Go after the doe and have barely enough food for himself, or go after the stag and bring it back to offer as a thanks to the kitsune?

Bokuto didn’t get to finish his train of thought before there was a soft growl, and something smashed into the stag’s side, a flash of black, and the stag bellowed. Bokuto leapt back to avoid the kicking hooves, and bit back a low snarl of annoyance at the interferer. Whatever attacked the stag made quick work of it, and before Bokuto could blink again, the stag had fallen limp. As the black figure stood up gracefully, one tail flared into nine, and the kitsune flicked one ear.

“Good morning,” Akaashi said. Bokuto’s jaw had gaped open in shock, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. The kitsune looked amused, before nosing the stag’s limp body. “Meet me back at the shrine. I’ll carry it.” The kitsune dipped his head, and worked its lithe body beneath the body of the stag, carrying it over his shoulders. Quirking an eyebrow at the still unmoving Bokuto, the kitsune flicked the winged wolf over the forehead with a tail, and headed back off into the forest.

 _Well, that was as impressive as it was rude. I was going fine._ Bokuto huffed to himself, before unfurling his wings and taking to the sky once again. The air, he now realized, was still cool, damp from the earlier storm. Bokuto shook his head, and let the wind carry him back to the shrine. He was surprised when the kitsune was already there, tails folded neatly over his forepaws, stag before him. Suga and Daichi had woken, and were already pecking at the carcass.

“I could’ve killed the stag myself, you know.” Bokuto tilted his head at Akaashi, keeping his tone light. The kitsune merely twitched one ear, before getting to all four paws, padding around the carcass and towards the winged wolf. Bokuto froze, everything going stiff as the kitsune wound around him.

“Hmm. In your current state of health, hungry, dehydrated and just physically weak, I don’t think you could’ve. I can tell that you haven’t been yourself lately.” The kitsune’s tails brushed against the side of Bokuto’s face as the fox padded back to the carcass, settling down and dipping his head to take a bite. Bokuto shook himself, frowning slightly, before following. He usually wasn’t this docile, and he wondered why the fox, or _how_ the kitsune knew.

Bokuto pushed his nose through the thick fur of the stag’s throat, but his jaws felt too weak to tear through the flesh. After a few more failed tries, did Bokuto let a soft whine of disappointment. Akaashi let out a soft huff, and pushed his head against Bokuto’s, easily tearing a chunk of meat for Bokuto to eat. 

Murmuring a soft _thanks_ , Bokuto tried to shake off the kitsune’s strangely intoxicating scent of apple and lavender. The kitsune watched him quietly as he nibbled at the meat, before glancing up at Suga and Daichi, who were staring at Bokuto worriedly.

“I’m not dying.” Bokuto complained, letting the piece of meat fall from his jaws. Daichi’s feathers puffed out, as if offended, and in a flurry of black feathers, landed next to Bokuto’s forepaws.

“Your pelt is dull, and it’s almost looks like it’s hanging off of your body. You’re exhausted from the lack of food we’ve been finding, as well as all the traveling we’ve been doing for the past few weeks.” Daichi chittered furiously.

“You’re not my dad.” Bokuto groaned, and Daichi retaliated by smacking Bokuto over the head with a wing. A snort of amusement drew their attention towards the kitsune, but the black-furred fox’s expression was neutral, and his gunmetal eyes flickered over towards Bokuto and Daichi, almost challenging them until the crow and winged wolf looked away.

“You’re quiet.” Suga chirped, hopping on the stag’s carcass, stopping before Akaashi. Suga tilted his head, grey feathers in his tail fluttering. The kitsune swiped his tongue across his jaws, and Bokuto eyed him warily, ready to jump in and defend the crow if necessary. 

“You think?” Akaashi replied, cooly, simply. Suga’s brown eyes blinked a couple times, before a lighthearted warbling laugh left his beak. The kitsune touched his nose to the crow’s head in a delicate manner, before lowering it to continue eating. Sulking slightly, Bokuto went back to gnawing and chewing at the meat.

He’d just managed to eat half of it when he realized that Akaashi was watching him again, those blue eyes holding a slight hint of amusement, whereas his expression was flat. The winged wolf drew his feathered wings close to his body, a defensive growl rumbling in his chest.

“What are you looking at?” Bokuto winced when his voice came out weaker than he intended it to. He hated feeling like this; tired, weak and hungry. He wanted to go back to the time where he was happy and healthy, carefree and loud. But, being the adventurous soul he was, Bokuto had left his home to travel.

“Nothing,” the kitsune responded. Akaashi’s jaws gaped wide, tongue curling and ears twitching as he yawned. “Just wondering how you’re going to get better if you don’t have enough strength.” Suga hopped onto the kitsune’s paw, and Daichi let out a anxious chitter.

“Can’t you lend Bokuto some strength? I’ve heard that kitsune like you are capable of wielding powers.” Bokuto saw the kitsune’s posture stiffen slightly, tails lifting slightly in offense. Bokuto made a move to get to his paws, but he stumbled, head spinning, unable to catch his balance and fell over in a tangle of paws, tail and wings. Suga let out a startled chirp, and fluttered his wings, swooping down to land next to Bokuto’s head.

“Are you alright?” Daichi demanded, butting his small head against Bokuto’s muzzle. The winged wolf blinked, vision hazy, nearly delirious, and lifted a paw into his line of vision. Something wasn’t right.

“He’s finally hit his limit.” Bokuto could hear the kitsune’s cool voice cutting through Suga and Daichi’s worried voices. “He’s sick. I’m bringing him to rest. I’ll call for Konoha soon. If you both could bring some of the stag and water-soaked moss into the shrine for your friend, that would be great.” Bokuto felt a presence near him, then something warm and furry slide beneath him before he was lifted into the air.

“Am I flying?” Bokuto mumbled, delirious. There was a soft chiming noise that filled the air, and suddenly everything became a bit darker, cooler. He was lowered onto the ground, and a cool nose touched his forehead. There was the fluttering of wings, and Bokuto was relieved to hear Suga and Daichi’s familiar voices. Something wet and cool touched his lips, and Bokuto’s tongue darted out to capture the liquid. His parched throat was finally relieved, and a wet nose touched his forehead, and he drifted off into a deep sleep.

_~sleepless nights, and restless dreams_  
his exhaustion had caught up, tearing at the seams  
flying wings began to drag on the ground,  
praying to find a place where he’ll be safe and sound.~ 


End file.
